


A jealous thread

by thewriteday



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: F/F, more jealousy/fluffy/silly moments than anything, some domestic abuse talk but not much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 02:08:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13672053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriteday/pseuds/thewriteday
Summary: Vanessa isn't jealous - she just can't help pulling a thread.





	A jealous thread

Vanessa doesn’t think she’s the jealous type. In the weeks since admitting they care about each other – that it’s fun, that they want to keep trying at whatever this is – Vanessa wagers jealousy is more Charity’s colour than hers.

But for some reason, when she sees Charity chewing at her bottom lip behind the bar and texting incessantly, her brain decides that now is the time to panic.

It’s not just today; it’s been the last week and a half or so. Charity has been texting nonstop between pulling pints or walking through town or shopping at David’s. Not that Vanessa tries to notice; she just does.

“You trying to burn a hole in her forehead?” Paddy comments from across the table, glancing between the two women with immediate discomfort. Not surprisingly, he’s just a little bit on edge when it comes to Charity and Vanessa’s... thing, given the way he’s been tangled in since the start.

Vanessa immediately flicks her gaze down into her beer glass. “She’s texting again. She’s been hammering on that phone for days and yet,” she holds up her own cell. “Nothing for me! Just whichever person has deigned to pique her interest this go around.”

Paddy chuckles. “My, my. Shoe’s on the other foot, is it?”

Vanessa grumbles. Paddy waves a hand at her. “With everything going on with Joe Tate, plus what happened to Ross? Chas said the whole family’s been losing sleep. Maybe she’s texting to organize some trouble for him?”

Vanessa lands her chin in her palm. “She’d never do that by text. Can’t leave a paper trail.”

“A paper-? Wow she really is having an effect on you, isn’t she?” Paddy’s expression is pure “yikes.”

“Oh shut up, Paddy, not like you haven’t been affected by a Dingle woman lately. Swooning in all lovey dovey and ridiculous. Might I add, Chas has somehow managed to make you _more_ gossipy than you were to begin with.”

“That’s not true!” He leans in conspiratorially. “Only she’s just told me that Cain and Harriet had another little run-in the other day–” Paddy cuts himself off when he notices Vanessa’s look of pure disdain. “Sorry,” he adds.

“It’s fine. I just haven’t seen much of Charity lately – I mean besides just physically seeing her around – and I’ve been a little edgy.”

“Understatement, much.” Paddy mumbles as he takes a swig of beer.

“Excuse me?”

“Just that your manner with our patients, or, well, really with their owners, has been a little less than your usual, level best.”

Vanessa opens her mouth to retort, but she knows it’s true. She closes it again and her shoulders sag. If a pout were a person, she’s it.

Her phone buzzes in place on the tabletop and she checks it hastily. It’s from Charity.

_Why the long face?_

Vanessa stares at it for a second, willing herself not to look at the very-present sender, who is still behind the bar. But Paddy reads her expression instantly.

“And that’s my cue to leave.” He starts to pull on his coat when he thinks of something. "You know, Chas also mentioned that Charity has been sort-of turning over a new leaf of late. In no small part thanks to you, I’d bet. Maybe give her the benefit of the doubt. She’s surprised you so far, hasn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Vanessa finally looks at Charity and finds her gazing right back. Charity winks. Vanessa takes a deep inhale, as if trying to catch a breath before the ability to do so leaves her entirely. “She has.”

* * *

 

It’s been half an hour since Paddy left. Vanessa is still nursing the last dregs of her pint, debating whether to engage Charity in conversation or just leave with her tail between her legs and sort it later.

She still hasn’t replied to the text, choosing to stew instead, reading some emails and making a grocery list. And if Charity just happens to notice Vanessa pointedly checking her phone and pointedly  _not_  responding to her message while sitting less than ten metres away, then so be it.

Vanessa sighs at her own ludicrous behaviour. “Grown-up” indeed. She texts Charity back:

_Sorry, rough day at the office yesterday._

It’s a lie. And not even a very good one, but she’s counting on Charity not really giving two shakes about her day job.

She shoves her phone in her purse, not waiting for the reply or looking up to see if her text is received. She starts to shrug on her coat, her back to the bar, when she feels hands picking up the shoulders of her jacket so that she can slip her other arm in smoothly.

“You’ve been dodgy all week, babe, and that’s coming from me. Besides which, I know it’s actually been a very slow week at the local veterinary office.”

Vanessa tugs her jacket away from Charity’s hands as she zips it closed. She turns to face her. “And how would you know what kind of week it’s been?”

Charity blinks slowly. “Well maybe I have an inside source, eh? Maybe Paddy’s been feeding me information.”

“Doubt that.”

“’Scuse me! You know how resourceful and talented I am.” Charity tilts her head, but Vanessa’s got her “not-having-it” face on.

Then Charity reaches for her, and as much as Vanessa wants to pull away, to seethe and pout some more, she lets Charity fiddle with a coat button and pick off some lint that isn’t there.

“I’ve just been working on a few things. Keeping busy, yeah? Doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you.”

“Right,” Vanessa says, trying to remain stony. But all the fire is gone from her voice.

“But if you’re up for it, I could be all yours tomorrow night.” Charity looks at her like she’s something decadent. “If you’re feeling… charitable.”

Vanessa rolls her eyes but can’t hold back the smile that pushes in. “You’re ridiculous.” Charity just grins. “Yes, and?”

“And I’m home tomorrow night with Johnny. So you can come over if you like, but you’ll have to be quiet and you _may_ have to entertain a small child.”

“Can I bring wine? I can be all kinds of entertaining with wine.”

“Yes, but you can only drink it when he’s put to bed.”

Charity lets out a melodramatic groan and lolls her head back. “Fine! So demanding, you are. You know that?”

Vanessa loops her index finger into a belt loop on the front of Charity’s slacks and pulls her close. “Yeah, because you keep reminding me.”

* * *

Work the next day is easier. The promise of a proper evening in with Johnny and Charity is filling her with relief. Charity didn’t take to Johnny immediately – she always seems to put on airs about small kids, how much she can’t stand them unless they’re her own, “They’re always sticky!” – but seeing the two of them interacting plays a delicate, little harmony in Vanessa’s chest. A too-right feeling that she knows is a problem but which she can’t seem to shut up.

Her brain’s in such a fog that it isn’t until she’s packing up to leave that she notices Rhona is glued to her phone.

Vanessa squints at her. Which Rhona doesn’t notice. Funny, Rhona usually notices or at least _senses_ when she’s being squinted at. But right now she’s a million miles away.

“Funny, that doesn’t look your ‘Pete is sexting me’ face.” Vanessa says.

Rhona finally looks up, surprised, as if just realizing she isn’t alone in the room. “Oh! It, uh, it isn’t. Just my... planning-for-Leo face.” She smiles at Vanessa, but it’s a tight smile – forced – as if she’s hiding something.

And suddenly Vanessa has a crazy thought.

“You’re not – and this sounds lunatic even to me – you’re not texting Charity, are you?”

Rhona blinks, her mouth opens as if she’s going to say no, but then it just sort of stays open, and empty of any words at all.

“Rhona…” Vanessa starts to rise from her desk, feeling an unfriendly prickling across her neck.

Before Rhona has a chance to refute, the phone's ringing. Vanessa doesn’t notice at first, being too focused on the just-under ten thousand thoughts attacking her brain at that moment, and Rhona has to practically jump across the office to pick it up in time.

Vanessa tunes her out. She’s busy over-analyzing every moment of interaction between Rhona and Charity in the last few weeks. She doesn’t even notice when the phone’s been hung up.

“That was the Harpers – they’ve asked if I can help with a foaling. They think their mare’s in Stage One but they’re not sure, so I’m going to head that way.” Rhona empties the words out before she notices Vanessa’s not listening. “Ness?”

“Sorry, got it.” Vanessa says automatically.

Rhona rounds the desk and tugs at Vanessa’s arm, forcing her to meet eyes. “Hey, nothing’s wrong. Charity and I are texting a bit, but it’s nothing shady, I promise! I will tell you all about it tomorrow, first thing. Meet up for a coffee before work? Provided I’m not out half the night.”

Vanessa hopes she has a convincing smile. “Yeah, sounds good.”

* * *

It’s half past eight. She’s staring at Johnny, watching him nod off on the couch cuddled next to her. Normally she’d have put him to bed before now, but she hates moving him when he’s warm beside her and she can feel his tiny breaths against her arm.

Nothing is wrong. Of course there’s nothing wrong. Rhona wouldn’t hurt her and Charity – despite her history – would honestly be a lot more careful if there were anything backwards going on.

Still, her guts are tied up in knots. And no combination of reality television or lamb roast or Johnny’s dozy chattering has been able to soothe her thus far.

She gets a text from Charity.

_Here with wine and entertainment._

_Door’s open_ , she texts back.

She hears the door creak and the sound of careful steps behind her. The sound of a coat being hung up. The sound of Charity hissing curse words when the coat falls off the hook. And again. Vanessa smiles to herself.

When Charity finally rounds the couch, wine bottle in hand, she raises her eyebrows at mother and son all cosy on the loveseat. She points at Johnny. “He’s in my spot.”

“Yep.”

“Want to do something about that?”

Vanessa shrugs. “I don’t know, he’s keeping me warm and he’s very cute. Not sure you can compete.”

Charity’s jaw drops in mock offense. “Cheeky! Well, I guess I’ll just retire to the…” Charity eyes up the armchair behind her, grimaces, and then looks past Vanessa. “To the kitchen, and drink this all by myself!” She raises the wine in front of her and starts to stalk off when Vanessa catches her arm to stop her.

“I’ll give you a tenner if you take him upstairs and tuck him in.” Vanessa throws out the offer as a lark. So it throws her for a loop when Charity shrugs and says, “Your money.” She hands Vanessa the bottle of wine and leans down towards Johnny, picking him up in her arms like it's second nature. Albeit a slightly uncomfortable second nature.

“Oy, little man. This isn’t your bed. Up and at ‘em.” She rests Johnny against her hip like he fits there and he stirs. He blinks sleepily at her, confused for a moment. But it’s not enough to fight the wave of tiredness that takes over; his head slumps to her shoulder. And _there’s_ that little tune playing deep in Vanessa’s chest again. Charity looks at her sternly, pointing at the wine bottle.

“That better be poured and ready by the time I’m back. Or I will rain hell.”

“Charity!” Vanessa hisses.

“What? I said hell! That’s not cursing – it’s all over the bible, isn’t it?” And with that, Charity leaves Vanessa chuckling and shaking her head.

* * *

By the time Charity is back downstairs, Vanessa has set up some music, dimmed the lights to just lamps and poured two generous glasses of whichever wine Charity had bothered to lift from the Woolpack that evening (Vanessa hadn’t bothered to check). She’s also pulled off her jumper, leaving the button-up blouse underneath – with a few buttons undone for good measure.

“You do work quickly.” Charity says, arriving at the bottom of the stairs, surveying the scene.

“Well I was told there was chance of “raining hell” and I just vacuumed today, so...”

“So rambunctious! All an act, though. Wasn't somebody looking forward to seeing me?” Charity collapses next to Vanessa.

“Maybe.” Vanessa picks up the wine glasses and hands Charity hers.

“You _can_ admit it.”

“So you keep telling me.” Vanessa takes a sip of wine, steeling her nerves. “But what you _haven’t_ been telling me is what you and Rhona have been texting about.”

Charity sputters a little. “Who says we are?”

“She does.”

Charity pushes her lips out and squints. “Well what if we’re planning a big surprise birthday party for you? Then wouldn’t you feel bad for asking?”

“My birthday’s not till next month.”

“That’s how _big_ it’s going to be.”

“Charity…” Vanessa groans.

“Fine! God, it’s like trying to push water uphill with you, you know that? She said she was going to talk to you today.” Charity’s face is a physical harrumph.

“She got called away. Said we’ll talk in the morning.” Vanessa shrugs. “But I just want _you_ to be able to tell me. I hate secrets. I hate keeping them and I hate when they’re kept from me.”

“You’re sort of cute when you’re curious.” Charity winks but Vanessa sips her wine, keeping their gaze locked. Charity sighs. “Look, the only reason I didn’t tell you is because it isn’t a big deal. And we didn’t want to let anyone else in on it in case it goes nowhere.” She takes a deep breath and speaks like she’s never cared about a thing less. “We’ve been texting about putting together a group – or a thing, or a group-like thing – for women to talk to other women about domestic abuse and that sort of… thing.” She shrugs. “You know, like a help line maybe. Or a text line. Resources, whatever.” She waves her hand off as if it’s all just conjecture. “We’re still very much in the ideas stage.”

Vanessa stays silent. Charity won’t meet her eyes. “Anyway, Rhona asked me if I wanted to help, because I’ve been _so_ lucky with that kind of thing myself. Not in the same ways as her, obviously, but not great either. So I’m just chatting it out with her, helping her get the ball rolling.”

Vanessa takes Charity’s hand in hers then, wordless, and pulls them closer on the couch. She just holds that hand there, safe in her lap, until Charity will finally look at her. Then Vanessa shows her a wide smile. “That’s lovely. I’m so proud of the both of you.”

Charity gives a tiny roll of her eyes. “We haven’t even done anything yet, it’s all talk. Probably won’t even go anywhere.”

Vanessa shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. Even that’s something to be proud of.” She looks into her wine glass. “Sorry for being suspicious.”

“Well, can’t blame you for that, with me the way I am.” Charity lets out a breath of laughter, but Vanessa can hear the curl of pain underneath.

“No, that’s no excuse. Charity, I don’t want to care about the past. I want to care about right now. Your past made you who you are, and I like who you are. But what you did before isn’t important. It’s what you’re doing.”

“You sound like a self-help book threw up.” Charity says. She wrinkles her nose. “And what does it say about me that I can sort of understand it?”

Vanessa takes both of their wine glasses and sets them on the table before moving to straddle Charity on the couch. “Don’t know. I guess you must be losing your touch.”

Charity puts her hands on Vanessa’s thighs and squeezes. “Oh, you think so?”

“Yeah, must be.” Vanessa says. Then she leans down and pours her lips into Charity’s. It’s slow and easy, careful but playful. All the best bits of them stirred together. Charity breaks it off before Vanessa can get too hot and heavy.

“Hey, you know something?” Charity says. Her voice is raspy, filled with want. Vanessa just raises her eyebrows.

“You still owe me a tenner.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know why this idea occurred to me except that I love Rhona and I love Charity (and Vanessa, obvs) and I was like, where could they find some common ground. And also some slight Vanessa jealousy, because that's fun. And also women supporting women because that's my jam, jelly, peanut butter, and pie.


End file.
